


acorns and bloody knuckles

by philsbear



Category: Dear Evan Hansen - Pasek & Paul/Levenson
Genre: Angst, F/F, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, References to Depression, Self-Harm, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-11-14 21:39:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18060647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/philsbear/pseuds/philsbear
Summary: - connor murphy is immortal. he learnt that the hard way. from falling from bridges to bunkbeds - the most he's received is a grazed knee and a broken nose. with all his family and friends gone - connor has no choice but to search for the relatives of his friends and find out what happened to them - until one day, he finds a pair of familiar green eyes in a crowd of people - a cast still clinging to his left arm.





	acorns and bloody knuckles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> \- the small interaction gave me enough evidence that - in fact - i was still half normal. half normal to keep a conversation with a kid in a bar at 11pm on a monday. -

i am immortal.  
i am seventeen.  
i was born two hundred and eighty-six years ago and i haven't aged one day since my seventeenth birthday.

i don't know what triggered my unfortunate state of immortality. god - or whoever the fuck it is up there - could've blessed any fucking person around me - but no, choose me, the person who actually wants to die. my sister zoe would've been the perfect pick for the job - she actually made my parents proud. she became a journalist for the new york times and had three kids - lily, chelsea and dylan - before marrying off to a wealthy lawyer. myself - on the other hand, didn't get anywhere after i left home. i mean - could i fucking actually? if i found a good job, i'd either have to quit after a few years due to the - 'no ageing' rule or basically grow some chest hair and bulk up to actually look any older. but somehow - the almighty lord prevented that as well. real swell for old murphy here. but hey - i outlived larry - so that's a fucking start.

"hey con."  
"jez - what's been happening?" i make my way to the bar, sliding onto an old three-legged stool and hunching over the counter. jez was probably my only good friend - if you could even classify him as that. a six-foot raven-haired stunner working the night shift at the only bar in town, jez beck was a grandchild of an old study-buddy from high school (i managed to track down) who took a liking to my extensive taste for alcohol and 70's music.

"nothing much - beth's been down with the flu." his dark skin shimmers with the lights from the flashing jukebox, beaded dreads swaying behind him as he hangs up another glass. "how about you?"

"same ol' same ol'" i mutter, wringing my hands together and glancing towards the corner of the room where a man is slumped into one of the bright red couches, nursing a hangover with some of jez's chicken parmigiana. he glances at me, frowning and i turn away. i'm not here to fight. not tonight - at least. he serves me a drink and i don't question - downing it in one go. it's fucking nasty but it's good. really good.

"new mix," he comments.  
"pretty shitty"  
"good aye?"  
"suppose." he chuckles, running a cloth across the inside of another glass as i swallow again, sliding the cup back towards him.

"something good this time?" i cough and he rolls his eyes - ducking down under the counter. 

"let me guess - uh scotch?"

"you know me too well." he hums in content - fixing me a glass before disappearing out the back, leaving me alone with the man, the jukebox and the clock. i glance upon the brick wall, watching the hand move slowly around - confirming that time is still moving forward - and im the only one stuck in this fucking loop. my teeth graze my bottom lip and i pull out my phone. my graduation picture stares back at me with a toothy grin and i rub my head - breathing heavily and cursing. i had friends - i managed to graduate school with two or three. alana, jared and evan. god knew where they were and what they had actually done in life. i had no recall of alana becoming president - which must have been a defeat for her. jared probably ended up doing computer science and working for the CIA - and then evan -

"you good?" i look up - meeting the gaze of the man in the corner. hes young - maybe just legal - wrapped up in a thick coat and beanie - staring at me with glassy eyes. i take my hand away from my lips - chucking weakly.

"yeah man - remorsing." he nods, slowly pushing at the glass door with his shoulder.

"have fun."

"yeah - you too." i fake salute towards him and he offers me a slight smile before rushing into the rain. the clock ticks louder from before and i pull my hands closer to my mouth - puffing softly. the small interaction gave me enough evidence that - in fact - i was still half normal. half normal to keep a conversation with a kid in a bar at 11pm on a monday. 

i shuffle off the seat at the bar, making my way to the jukebox and staring at the screen. i glimpse at my reflection in the glass and scrunch up my rose slowly. my hair is greasy and wet along with my superman t-shirt which was somehow splattered with mud. my hand quickly reaches for a random number on the screen and i insert a few dollars. 

 _they took all the trees_  
_and put 'em in a tree museum_

big yellow taxi. a small smile etches across my face as i slowly back away from the machine. the door across the room is suddenly thrown open and a few drunks tumble in, chanting loudly over my music. i watch them take seats at the bar as jez appears again - offering them all charming smiles and pouring glasses. i can't hear the music anymore - despite it being played all through out the room on speakers so i take it as a cue to leave. my coat is still exactly where i left it, across the pool table where a picture of jez and his grandmother sits upon the wall. alana beck. i nod towards the picture, smiling softly as her features seem to be the same as i last remember. 

 _don't it always seem to go,_  
_that you don't know what you've got_  
_til its gone_

i sigh - pulling on my jacket slowly - pressing a few dollar bills onto the bar and waving goodbye to jez. he waves goodbye enthusiastically and i push through the door, stepping into the bitter cold air, joni mitchell singing me away.

**Author's Note:**

> hi !!
> 
> i hope you are having a wonderful day :) this story will have v short chapters (as i tend to over-stretch) and will be randomly updated! ty for reading so far and please feel free to leave constructive criticism!
> 
> check me out on tumblr! 2017hansen !!


End file.
